A Very Hairy Adventure
by Caseyrocksmore
Summary: Harry and B'Elanna have a very strange adventure, that neither planned for! But who is behind it all...?


**A Very Hairy Adventure**

_Takes place sometime after "Extreme Risk". Rated PG-13. By Casey._

_I actually wrote this a very long time ago, but I'm just getting around to posting it. Sorry. Anyway, here it is!_

On March 31st on the Terran calendar, Ensign Kim, Lieutenant Baxter, Lieutenant Mulcahey and Lieutenant Torres skulked along the walls of a cave in the Northern continent of Mahlysh'otya, a planet in a system with six other planets and three dwarf-suns. The cavern they were in a small, but deep, and none of them wished to fall, so they walked in single file. They were looking for the large deposits of gallicite their scanners had picked up. This mission reminded B'Elanna painfully of Sakari, when she had been looking for gallicite and ended up not only throwing herself all over Tom Paris in an embarrassing manner, but also completely beating up her friend (and subordinate) Vorik. It was one memory she wished she could erase.

B'Elanna walked first, followed by Harry, then Baxter and Mulcahey. There was a soft shuffling as they moved along the wall, tricorders moving up and down the rock face slowly.

"Starfleet, stop." Harry stopped. Baxter stopped to, having heard B'Elanna's order to Harry. Mulcahey, who was a little behind, neglected to stop and walked right into Baxter. Baxter bumped Harry, who bumped B'Elanna, who did not enjoy being bumped. She rounded on him, her Klingon temper showing in her eyes and flared nostrils.

"Sorry," he said with that innocent smile of his. B'Elanna's temper subsided for the moment. She always fell for Harry's innocent look. It was just so pathetic. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when B'Elanna turned back to her tricorder, scanning the empty air in front of her. Both Baxter and Mulcahey knew better than to ask B'Elanna what she was doing, but not Harry. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

Baxter grinned a knowing grin to Mulcahey, who grinned back. _Ensign Perfect is in trouble!_ Their eyes seemed to say. It was such a rare occasion, but it did happen.

B'Elanna turned slowly to look at Harry, the Klingon fire burning in her eyes again. He gulped, and would've taken a step back, had Baxter not been in the way. "Sorry," he said again, flashing the innocent smile. B'Elanna turned back to her scanning of mid-air. It worked _again_. The Lieutenants looked at each other in shock. They both had the exact same thought going through their heads. _Where can I get one of those smiles?_

It was just that natural charm about Ensign Harry Kim. Everyone had noticed it. He was eager, bright, happy, full of energy, and always thrived to be perfect Ensign he could be, usually succeeding. He tried to be perfect at everything, actually. And he usually could manage it. Except when it came to women, of course (it was well known that Harry's lady-skills were 0 out of 10). He desperately needed help in that department. Thank goodness Tom Paris, _Voyager_'s resident 'ladies man' was his best friend and helped him with those sorts of things. Either than that, he did have a few noticeable flaws, proving he wasn't 

the ideal human being. Like how his perfectionist personality made it hard for him to get over little details and focus on the big picture, how sometimes he whistled through his teeth when he breathed out (which can get annoying), and how impossibly green and gullible he was.

B'Elanna bit her lip. She turned to Harry again, who was hoping he hadn't done anything to upset his sometimes hostile friend. She looked worried. Her eyebrows (and therefore her cranial ridges) were pushed together, and she was biting her lips so hard it drew blood (which was not unusual for B'Elanna).

"Harry," she whispered, "Something's wrong here." Baxter and Mulcahey looked at each other. B'Elanna, being part Klingon, had very acute senses... if she thought something was up, something probably _was_. Harry was going to say something, but stopped himself. What he wanted to tell B'Elanna would've made his situation worse.

He _wanted _to say something like "You are probably just imagining things," or, "Just like you were _sure_ something was wrong on the last away mission, too?" or maybe, "Are you sure this isn't just some flash-back from Sakari?" The Sakari mission had been a lot like this one... maybe that just put her on edge. Or maybe she needed someone to mate with. He smiled at that. Had he been Tom Paris on that mission, he wouldn't have turned her down. _Just goes to show what my love-life is like_, he thought miserably, though the smile stuck around.

"_Why are you smiling like that, Starfleet?_ Something is defidently wrong here..." She still had the tricorder paused in front of her.

"B'Elanna, are you sure there is something wrong? The Mahlyshens gave us permission to mine here – it's not as though we're trespassing." It was a simple statement, but it made B'Elanna angry again. The slightest things tended to do that lately.

"I mean, I think someone or some_thing _is stalking us," she said, trying to regain composure. "I know it." She seemed sure of herself, but Harry, who always seemed to get things wrong even when he thought he was right, seemed sceptical.

"Lieutenant Torres, there seems to be a rather large deposit of gallicite up ahead – why don't we work this out after we collect some samples and get back to _Voyager?_" asked Baxter, and Mulcahey nodded his approval.

B'Elanna sighed loudly, showing her disapproval, but moved forward to investigate the gallicite anyway. Baxter and Mulcahey bent down next to her while Harry danced from foot to foot slowly. There wasn't enough room to bend down with them, it would be uncomfortable. Being the owner of the lowest rank, he was often left sitting (err, standing) around doing nothing while the Lieutenants did the interesting work.

B'Elanna, Baxter and Mulcahey muttered softly to one another. Harry took a step closer to the edge of the cliff they were balanced on... it was a long way down. Harry was not afraid of heights – in his Cadet days he had been the first to climb Olympus Mons successfully on their field trip to Mars. Even the Martians had been impressed with his climb, and he even had ended up dating one of them. That didn't 

work out too well. One date and she was completely uninterested... that was right around the time he started writing for the Starfleet Academy Newspaper.

He heard the scratching sound before the others did, because they were focused on the gallicite, which turned out to be nearly pure, with a few traces of titanium.

B'Elanna was talking excitedly to Baxter, and all three of them had seemed to have forgotten about B'Elanna's feeling of impending danger.

The scratching noise was coming from the bottomless-looking crevice beside him. Harry leaned down and gripped the edge tightly, looking over. His eyes saw nothing but darkness. He pulled the tricorder from his belt and began to scan down the crevice, but there was no sign of anything down there.

Harry shook his head, trying to rid it of the scary thoughts that had crept inside. B'Elanna stood up and brushed dirt and small stones off her dirty away-mission uniform.

"We got our samples, we can go now." She turned to Harry. "Harry, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a huge pot of Neelix's Leola root stew with your name on it." Harry smiled and let the fear drip away like water.

"No, I just heard something. It was probably nothing. Let's get-" He was going to say 'going' but stopped. There was the noise again. Then Harry saw it; a vicious looking alien with a pointed nose and ridges around its eyes–standing right behind B'Elanna!

He didn't have time to yell "Get down!" He didn't have time to warn her. He whipped out his phaser and fired, missing her by millimetres.

He felt a hot, siring pain in his back, and then everything went black.

XXX

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He was in sickbay. Behind a force field. On a biobed. Feeling like crap.

He turned his head a little, looking around sickbay. He could see the Doctor and B'Elanna, and the Captain. B'Elanna was sitting on a biobed not too far away. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The last thing he remembered was being on Mahlysh'otya, and an alien, and shooting him.

"B'Elanna, tell me again: What _exactly _happened?" That was the Captain's soothing voice. Like a motherly voice when you don't feel well. Harry listened harder, hoping to hear exactly what happened for himself. It was a good thing B'Elanna was not a quiet talker.

"I told you, Captain. We were looking for the gallicite and collected the samples, then I stood up and said something like, '_We've got our samples, we can go now._' Harry looked really pale, like he was scared or something, so I was like, '_Harry, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a pot of Neelix's Leola root stew with your name on it._' He smiled and said, '_No, I just heard something. It's probably nothing. Let's get..._' and they he stopped, I think he was going to say 'out of here' or 'going' or something. He 

went all rigid. Baxter and Malcahey were up by then, behind him and ready to leave. Then _Ensign Idiot_ pulled out his phaser and shot me! It's a good thing he's a bad shot—he really could have hurt me! Then Baxter stunned him."

Sickbay was quiet except for the humming of a dermal regenerator. Harry opened his eyes and saw the Doctor holding it over the long, thin burn along B'Elanna's cheek. Her hair was burnt, too, he realized. It was about shoulder length on her right side, but on her left it was about three inches shorter, and black on the ends.

Harry winced, but tried to sit up. The Captain saw him. She did not look pleased, nor motherly. She looked positively fuming.

"Harry, I know this sounds like a strange question, but _why_ did you shoot our Chief Engineer?" The Captain's voice was loud and angry. Harry blushed.

"I... I didn't! I mean, I wasn't trying to! I mean – there was this alien, and..." B'Elanna had her arms crossed and was giving him an exasperated look.

"Harry Kim! You shot me! There was not alien, and you are in perfect mental health according to the Doctor! What, were you trying to get rid of me so you'd get promoted or something?" she yelled. Harry winced.

"No, really, I saw this alien! I shot over your shoulder..."

"And you burned three inches off my hair! And I finally got it to the length I like! You are soooo going to pay for this!" Her hands were at her sides, balled into tight fists.

"B'Elanna! I swear, there was this—" he didn't have time to finish his sentence as B'Elanna lunged at him. It took both the Doctor and Captain Janeway to hold her back as she attempted to beat him up. He rolled off the biobed and onto the floor, using the bed as a shield from B'Elanna's Klingon temper.

"Look... what... he... did... to... my... hair!" she yelled, fighting against the two pairs of strong arms holding her own.

"B'Elanna, I can fix your hair!" the Doctor yelled back, his simulated breath becoming quicker as he strained his holo-matrix to hold her still. She stopped fighting and turned to face him.

"How?" she asked suspiciously.

"Chloropholoximide," he stated smiling in his Doctor-ish way, "A chemical discovered recently. Just before we left the Alpha Quadrant, actually. It stimulates hair growth on humans." He stopped at the look on her face. "And is proven to work just as well, if not better, on Klingons!"

B'Elanna smiled. "OK." She hopped up onto her biobed again, leaving a bemused Harry still hiding behind his own.

The Doctor began to rifle through his medical supplies (which, he was complaining, had been left a mess by Mr. Paris, _again_) until he found the right hypospray. He lifted it to show B'Elanna, and then gently lifted it to her neck. It made its soft airy noise, and then he removed it. B'Elanna still didn't look happy.

Since B'Elanna's hair crisis was over, the Doctor focused once again, on Harry Kim. He was normal looking, but you never know. He picked up his medical tricorder and scanner piece, and began running it over Harry's head.

"Really, Doc, I'm fine!" said Harry, swatting at the scanner piece. The Doctor stopped, tapped the tricorder, then left out a sigh.

"I've found the problem," he said, turning to Harry. "How much time have you been spending with Seven of Nine?" Harry blushed again.

"A lot, I guess. We've been working in the Astrometrics lab. Why?"

"Because somehow one of her nanoprobes managed to get into your bloodstream, and is now lodged in the perceptive centers in your brain. You've been seeing hallucinations. That could explain this mysterious alien. He's seeing things. Probably hearing things, too." Harry blinked, soaking in the data. So... he had shot one of his best friends for absolutely no reason?

"I'm really sorry, B'Elanna. I really though an alien was going to attack you. I was only trying to help," said Harry, blushing again, and giving her his innocent smile. B'Elanna suddenly looked sympathetic.

"Harry, I'm a big girl. Not to mention part Klingon. I can handle myself. Next time you think someone is attacking me; just give me the heads up, and I'll break their nose in three places, OK?" He nodded.

"I am going to extract the nanoprobe and hopefully this'll just clear up by itself. As for your hair, B'Elanna, it should grow back by tomorrow. Also, since you both were shot, I advise you both to stay off-duty until tomorrow. If that's OK with the Captain?" the Doctor said. The Captain nodded.

"As long as there aren't any emergencies, I don't see a problem with that."

B'Elanna nodded and left sickbay, heading for her Quarters. What she needed was a nice, hot, water-shower. And some rest. This would all be over by tomorrow.

XXX

When Tom Paris strode onto the Bridge five minutes early for his shift, the Captain was impressed. _Early instead of late,_ she thought, _maybe I am having a positive effect on him._

Instead of going to the helm, however, he walked up to the Captain's chair. "Captain," said Tom, "There's something wrong with B'Elanna."

The Captain sighed. _Or maybe not,_ she thought. The one thing Tom Paris put above flying was B'Elanna Torres. He'd even come in five whole minutes early for his shift for her.

"Captain to Lieutenant Torres," said Kathryn Janeway. There was no answer. "Captain to Engineering."

"Ensign Vorik here, Captain," said the young Vulcan in his usual desolate tone.

"Is Lieutenant Torres down there?" Tom shook his head, already knowing the answer.

"No, Captain. She's late for her shift. Perhaps she is still hurt or tired from the away mission and requires additional time... more than usual, to prepare herself."

_Vorik, Mr. I-Have-All-The-Answers-To-Your-Questions-Because-I-Am-A-Supirior-Vulcan-Dude, _though Tom irritably. Yet he knew the Vulcan man was wrong. He just _knew_.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres."

"Lieutenant Torres is in her Quarters." The Captain motioned toward the computer fondly.

"See? She's just taking longer than usual to get ready. Or maybe she slept in. There is nothing to worry about." Tom was unconvinced.

"But Captain, we were supposed to have breakfast together, and she didn't show up so I went to her Quarters and chimed the door about a thousand times, and even knocked to see if the chime was malfunctioning, but she didn't answer. And I think I could hear her crying. Captain, I know this sounds silly but I'm scared for her well-being. When she gets depressed she tends to... injure herself." He said his lengthy speech very fast.

The Captain stared at him a moment, then said, "OK, come on, Lieutenant. Tuvok, you have the Bridge."

The turbolift ride to Deck 9 was quiet. So quiet Tom could hear the Captain's even breathing. Obviously she wasn't too worried—she probably still doubted that B'Elanna was in any danger.

The doors of the lift _swooshed_ open, and he and the Captain walked briskly to Section 12. They arrived at B'Elanna's Quarters.

The Captain pressed the chime. There was no response. She pressed it again. Again, nothing. After the third time, Tom and the Captain heard the unique sound of something glass hitting the other side of the door, moving approximately 60 mile per hour, and smashing into very tiny pieces.

"Tom, leave me the Hell alone you persistent PetaQ, before I dump your sorry ass!!" B'Elanna's voice was loud and angry sounding, even through the thick, metal door.

"B'Elanna, unlock the door." The Captain, always so calm in hostile situations. Tom had to admire her control. Truth be told, 'B'Elanna Torres angry' scared the Hell out of him.

There was a pause, then a weak, small-sounding voice said, "Captain?"

Tom could hardly believe it was the same person. From hostile and potentially deathly to innocent and small-sounding in twenty-five seconds. _That must be a new record,_ thought Tom with one of his tell-tale smirks. It disappeared after a moment, and Tom thought he ought to say something.

"Yes, 'Lanna, she's here. Along with your 'persistent PetaQ' of a boyfriend. Please open the door."

There was a pause, then, "No."

"B'Elanna Torres, open this door." The Captain sounded a little concerned now, too.

"No!"

"B'Elanna, open this door; that is an _order_." Tom took in a little breath and held it. The Captain only pulled rank when it was absolutely necessary. Tom supposed it was necessary.

There was a shuffling noise, then the door began to slide open.

Tom's first impression was that he had gone blind. Except he could still see everything except the contents of his girlfriend's Quarters. It was pitch black.

"Computer, lights, half-illumination," said the Captain. As the lights turned on, Tom and the Captain saw a flash of red silk and brown hair flash in the direction of the bathroom. They looked at each other. What exactly was B'Elanna trying to hide?

"'Lanna?" asked Tom, slowly walking into her Quarters, "Are you alright?"

"Just leave me alone!" she yelled, but it was more of a plea this time. Tom felt tears spring to his sensitive human eyes for no reason. He wiped them away before the Captain could see them, still heading slowly in B'Elanna's direction.

"B'Elanna, please come out. Why are you hiding?" The Captain was following Tom toward B'Elanna's bathroom.

"I don't want you to see me like this."

"Like what?" asked Tom, stopping in his tracks. The Captain stopped, too.

"Like... like..." There was an inhuman sound that followed, but it was unmistakably a Klingon sob. Klingons rarely sob, so it is an unusual sound. One neither the Captain nor Tom had ever heard before.

"Like what?" he asked again.

"That... that Chloroph... that _stuff_ the Doc gave me... I think it worked a little _too_ well..." The Picture put in Tom's head was enough to make him laugh out loud. The Captain glared at him.

"Oh, come on, 'Lanna! How bad can it be, really?"

B'Elanna Torres stepped out of the bathroom. Tom gasped. The Captain's hand flew to her mouth.

B'Elanna was completely covered in think, shiny, brown hair, from toes to head. The only place where there wasn't hair was her eyes and mouth, the palms of her hands, the soles of her feet and her cranial ridges. Even the spaces between her ridges were filled with it.

She flung herself into Tom's arms and moaned softly. He ran a hand through her hair (on her head, though it was considerably longer now) and told her to hush.

"Captain to the Doctor, get down to B'Elanna's Quarter's, _now_."

XXX

In sickbay, the holographic Doctor smiled as he received the message.

"Right away," he said, grabbing his holo-admitter. He looked at the clock. It was 1201 hours. It was one minute past noon. April first was officially over. He could give poor B'Elanna the antidote now.

He smile was huge as he skipped through the halls of _Voyager_ happily. His first April Fool's day pranks—and no one even knew he had done it! The nanoprobe, all his idea. The Chloropholoximide, highly effective on Klingons. He was on a role!

_I can't wait until next year,_ he thought, and his simulated heart sped up. _Next year... Paris._


End file.
